Lloyd Woolf -- Ten Shows I Abandoned

It’s going to be no ordinary show when the comedian greets you at the door and asks how your day has been. The start of Lloyd Woolf’s performance lacks a certain amount of panache - he tells you as much when you sit down - but as Ten Shows I Abandoned bumbles on from topic to topic, Woolf’s obsessions, quirks and attention deficit are so idiosyncratically showcased that no one could leave dissatisfied.

The cliché “laugh out loud funny” doesn’t apply here (although it may now appear on the posters). And indeed, whilst at the other end of the spectrum Woolf’s humour couldn’t be described as gentle, you won’t be reaching over for the Kleenex to wipe away those tears of hilarity. But this doesn’t mean Woolf should be avoided. The inventive show ideas, seemingly abandoned only due to a lack of ability to concentrate, are all worthy of being the complete productions they will never become. Ten Shows I Abandoned therefore serves as a review of best bits from an oddball performer who intrigues throughout.

An order to whip out your phone to text a lost friend about the high esteem in which you hold Paddy Ashdown will get you involved with this show from the start. And once you’ve held hands with the stranger next to you for long enough to recite the lyrics of the Only Fools and Horses theme tune, you’ll have formed bonds with those around you that might just last slightly longer than the time it takes to walk out at the end. In fact, so engaging are Woolf’s explanations of his complex thought processes that it is only if you found Ashdown’s peacemaking attempts in the Balkans to be lacklustre or his dealings with Hamid Karzai arrogant and childish that you should stay away.